Oleg Marshev, born in Baku and Russian-trained, has already displayed his virtuoso prowess in a series of adventurous discs for Danacord, with the works of Emil von Sauer, Strauss, Pabst, Rubinstein and Prokofiev. Here, in Rachmaninov’s four concertante works, he goes on to tackle central, much-duplicated repertory, emerging as a formidable contender if not an outright winner.

These are broad-brush readings in many senses. The speeds are generally broader than usual – with No 2 taking more than five minutes longer than in some vintage versions – but with his weight and power Marshev sustains spacious speeds well; only occasionally does he let the music run the risk of sounding plodding, as in the slow movement of No 2 or at the start of the Third Concerto.

Characteristically, in the first movement of No 3 he opts for the heavier, more challenging version of the cadenza, sweeping through it, if not effortlessly, at least with no signs of stress. Yet, going to the more sparkling interlude that Shelley and Ashkenazy provide in their versions using the lighter cadenza (as Rachmaninov himself did), I cannot help thinking that the ostensibly less challenging alternative is preferable, even if Marshev’s weighty, broad approach makes his choice a logical one.

The thrust and intensity of his performances consistently carries one along, with full, forward recording balance adding to the power of his playing in each of the four works. It also allows one to appreciate the pearly clarity of Marshev’s articulation in Rachmaninov’s brilliant passagework. The downside is that the weight of the recording in heavy-textured passages tends to cloud inner detail a little. It also tends to downplay the poetic side of these heartfelt warhorses.

Marshev’s control of rubato is always fluent and idiomatic, conveying spontaneity of feeling, but others are even freer, as both Shelley and Ashkenazy demonstrate; and the absence of a true pianissimo – not just a question of recording balance but of Marshev’s muscular pianism – makes the slow movements in particular sound a little heavy-handed in comparison.

Consistently, Shelley is more poetic, with more light and shade, Ashkenazy more sparkling, with Previn and the LSO ideal accompanists. Loughran draws comparably powerful playing from the excellent Aarhus Symphony Orchestra to match his soloist, with a fine sheen on the strings – its most outstanding section. The broad speeds mean that the set has had to spread to three discs, but they come at mid-price, making it competitive with the two-disc Shelley cycle on Chandos.